


Happy endings

by ylc



Series: Of building tensions and their many consequences [8]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22668739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ylc/pseuds/ylc
Summary: Against popular belief, there’s no such thing as happy endings. Life does not end after a positive outcome; if anything, life is a constant struggle between happiness and everything else.But those glimpses of happiness-- they’re worth everything else.
Relationships: Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Series: Of building tensions and their many consequences [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1507208
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	Happy endings

**Author's Note:**

> And here were are! The last installment of the series. Sorry for the delay, but I got a little side tracked :P  
> Anyway, I hope you’ll enjoy it!

Beelzebub arrives into the meeting room with precious few minutes to spare. They hadn’t forgotten about the meeting, not exactly: it had just slipped their mind it was today. To be fair though, most days aren’t that different from the day before, so the passage of time often slips their mind.

That’s the problem with not having anything to look forward, they reflect. Every day is just more of the same spirit-crushing boredom. Work, work and more work. What’s the point, anyway?

They slump on their usual seat, looking around the room boredly. It’s rare for the Dark Council to meet, so they know there must be something of great importance, but they can’t bring themselves to care overly much.

They look at their fellow Princes of Hell, thinking it’s been quite long since the last time they saw most of them. In fact, the last time they saw them all gathered together--

_ Oh, fuck. _

The backdoor opens and Satan strolls forward. Beelzebub watches as he comes to sit on his Throne, dread filling their veins. If what they suspect is true-- if the reason behind this meeting is what they think--

_ Fuck. _

“It is time,” Satan announces after a brief but deadly silence. “The end of times has come at long last.”

_ For the second time,  _ Beelzebub thinks, a bit hysterically.  _ Fuck, fuck, fuck. _

Now what?

* * *

The start of the meeting passes in a bit of a blur, Beelzebub’s mind running a mile per hour. Once upon a time, this would have been great news; hell, the first time it happened they had practically been over the moon, but now--

Well, now things have changed, haven’t they?

“-- and naturally, Mammon will be in charge of the operation.”

“ _ The fuck _ ?” Beelzebub says, the words penetrating the fog around their mind. They look at Satan with a surprised (and probably a bit betrayed) expression. They’ve been the Dark King’s right hand for ages. If someone is meant to be in charge of the damn Apocalypse it should be them, not that little cretin!

“I’m sure we all remember how leaving you in charge last time worked out,” Mammon says, tone dismissive, a sarcastic smile on her thin lips. “Our Dark Lord has decided it’d be better to leave the matter on far more capable hands.”

“Listen you little jerk, I don’t--!”

“Enough!” Satan interrupts sharply and Beelzebub bites their lip. “Mammon is right, Beelzebub. You had your chance and you blew it. Your choice of demon to carry out such a crucial part of the plan--”

Beelzebub wants to protest. It was Satan’s own idea to give the Serpent of Eden the job, but they also know pointing that out will only lead to trouble and besides, now that Crowley has been mentioned…

Well. That’s a thought.

And what a thought it is. They remember their anger at the aborted Apocalypse, but that was  _ before.  _ Now--

“No sabotaging, Beelzebub,” Satan warns darkly and the Prince wonders if their expression was truly that obvious. But no, they’re a master of keeping their thoughts to themselves; the Dark King is probably just saying that because that’d be a perfectly natural thing for them to do.

“I’d never,” they reply easily, offering Mammon their best smirk and is pleased to notice the unnerved look on the Princess’ face. She should know better than to cross them, of course, but a quick look in Satan’s direction has her smiling once more, entirely too full of herself once more.

But that, they suppose, is to be expected. And it might play on their favour, so they really ought not to complain, not even inside their head.

Instead, they start focusing on their new plan. They must contact the traitor, of course, let him (and his angel) know what’s going on. But they must make it look natural, not at all like they’re setting them up to stop it. When the time comes, no one must suspect of Beelzebub’s involvement on another failed Apocalypse.

They should also set up a meeting with Gabriel, they think. It’s mostly an excuse to see the Archangel, of course, but keeping the other side informed of the arrival of the End of Times (reloaded) is technically part of the courtesies they must extend on their direction so--

Yes, a meeting is definitely in order.

* * *

For the last few meetings, they’ve avoided meeting in close spaces, both all too aware that only the briefest brush of fingers is enough for temptation to arise. St. James provides a more or less neutral ground and they’re careful to sit on opposite sides of the bench, leaving as much space as possible between them.

Tonight though, they think they could benefit from a little privacy.

Beelzebub paces the too small room, still considering their options. They’re not looking forward to another Apocalypse and even less to another failed-Apocalypse: that’s bound to be a bureaucratic madness of even more epic proportions, but--

If the world comes to an end, their meetings will have to stop for good. If the Great Battle finally takes place, they’ll have to fight Gabriel at some point and if it all comes down to it--

They doubt they could actually smote the other down. They always knew that their mutual destruction was the most likely outcome when they eventually fought each other, but now they don’t know if they could even try to destroy the Archangel. What Gabriel could or could not do is another story, of course, but they hope--

But of course that will end with their destruction either way. And having recovered Michael’s trust will have been for nothing.

“This is… unexpected,” Gabriel comments, finally appearing into the room. Beelzebub hums, gesturing for him to take a seat and the Archangel frowns, but obeys, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking a tad wary.

“I have something to tell you,” Beelzebub says after a brief pause. They had been wondering if they ought to tell Gabriel of their slightly suicidal plan to stop the Apocalypse, but have come to the conclusion that it’s unwise. They’re not sure what they would do if the Archangel opposed to it and they’d rather not think of the consequences said opposition could have. Also, they’re still not completely sure they’ll go through with it, so--

No, better not to say anything about that.

“I’m listening,” Gabriel says, watching Beelzebub with trepidation. It’s clear as water he’s uncomfortable with their meeting place, holding himself very still at all times, more tempted than ever to completely forget about their… separation.

“I’ve attended a meeting recently,” they say finally, coming to stand in front of the Archangel. “The end of times is upon us… again.”

Something flashes in Gabriel’s eyes, but it’s gone before Beelzebub can figure out what it is. “I see,” he replies slowly, tone guarded. “That’s… not ideal,” he says finally, watching Beelzebub closely, measuring up their reaction.

Beelzebub shrugs. “We knew it was a matter of time,” they reply, because they really did. And yet-- “And well… here we are.”

Gabriel nods slowly. “Well, if that’s all… I think I should go inform my fellow Archangels,” he says, standing up but Beelzebub reaches out for him, stopping him midmotion.

“Of course, you should,” they say, stepping closer. “But… well. I was thinking, since soon enough everything that’s not the war will cease to matter… well, if you wanted…” they trail off, a bit awkwardly, resting one hand gingerly on the other’s chest.

“Is that wise?” Gabriel asks, voice a barely audible whisper.

“No,” Beelzebub replies, looking at him in the eye. “But nothing we’ve done so far has been particularly wise.”

The Archangel laughs, but it’s devoid of any real amusement. “You’re right, of course,” he agrees breathlessly, leaning forward. “We’re damned, either way,” he says, but there’s not remorse in his tone and judging by the desperate way he’s kissing Beelzebub shortly after, they assume he feels no real regret.

Good.

Because they don’t either.

**Author's Note:**

> So, thoughts anyone? Just one more chapter (or maybe two, I haven’t decided) and that’ll be the end so… hold on tight, we’re almost there ;)  
> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought?


End file.
